Roses Have Thorns
by SammiRichGurl
Summary: We all know how the story goes;the phantom meets an attractive young lady, who wants to be a singer. But she is more in tune with her instincts than most girls her age, and now she will do whatever it takes to save a young Christine from her unfortunate fate. Even if she must risk her own safety. They say the thorns protect the rose buds, so they can mature,and fully blossom.HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

~Welcome, please enjoy~

**A/n: **_welcome, this is my POTO fan fiction. I realized whilst writing flashbacks for _"The Big Bang"_ that I really, truly enjoyed writing about the past. And since I've had a new fit of obsession for The phantom of the Opera, I thought "why the hell not?" well, here we go…._

Chapter 1-'-,-

"_the trumpeting elephants sound-_

_Hear, Romans now and tremble!_

_Hark to their step on the ground-_

_Hear the drums!_

_Hannibal comes!"_

the chorus finished and I applauded from my place in the west wing. Then suddenly monsieur Lefe'vre walked across the stage to my dear cousin; Carlotta Giudicelli.

"Im so very proud of you all. No doubt this will be a magnificent performance. Could every one please give me their full attention?" he eyed the cast and crew, dusting off his suit. "I know that for some time there have been rumors speculating my retirement. I would like to assure you that they are true." members of the Opera Populaire sported looks that ranged from shock, smugness, and complete indifference.

"So without further adue, let me introduce you to the new mangers and patron of the Opera Populaire; monsieur Firman and Andre, and the Vicomte de chagny." everyone clapped and Carlotta batted her eyelashes at them. "Gentlemen this is La Carlotta, our leading soprano for five seasons." she beamed as he gestured towards her, then Piangi coughed loudly. "And monsieur Piangi." he bowed proudly at the recognition.

The vicomete and mangers all stayed to watch the rehearsal. But once the song ended Carlotta started rampaging around the stage complaining about how much she hated her hat and that she was going to quit.

"I-I wonder, signora, if you would sing us that wonderful aria from act three of Hannibal?" Andre asked trying to appease her.

I smiled to myself, I had also learned that piece. Carlotta always had me at rehearsals with her, her own way of rubbing in her success. I loved to sing, but not many opera's wanted an alto voice with terrible stage fright.

"If my diva commands." said Reyer, the ancient conductor with a warm smile. Madame Giry, the ballet mistress, peered up into the rafters. Probably buying into that "Phantom" superstition. I had been at the opera house for a week and all anyone talked about was that ridiculous ghost. I rolled my blue irises as Carlotta shushed the other cast mates.

"_think of me,_

_Think of me fondly._

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me,_

_Once in a while -_

_Please promise me you'll try."_

She trilled in a shrieking voice. Cousin or not she had the tendency to make my ears bleed. The chorus girls held back their laughs, especially Giry's daughter Meg and her friend Christine.

Suddenly without warning, a screen dropped and landed right on top of Carlotta. She started yelling, although who could tell the difference between that and her singing?

"The ghost!" a girl screamed. I looked up and saw a flash of dark fabric.

"Signora, these thing do happen!" Andre said, she looked murderous as the stage hands hesitantly freed her, trying their best not to snicker.

"Well until you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!" she stormed off, Piangi followed behind closely.

"Good luck gentleman, you'll need it." Lefe'vre added before departing. The new managers looked helpless and confused.

"Is there no understudy?" Firman asked monsieur Reyer.

" There is no understudy for _La Carlotta!" _He replied and scoffed at the thought.

_These fools should really have stayed hidden in there office,_ I thought to myself and resisted the urge to shake my head disapprovingly at them.

"Then it looks as if we will have to cancel!" Firman stated angrily. " we shall to refund a _full house."_

"A full house." Andre repeated, looking ill.

Something fluttered down from the rafters, a note sealed with a red wax skull. Madame Giry picked it up and addressed the managers. "I have a message from the opera ghost, he welcomes you to his Opera house and reminds you to keep box five empty for his personal use. And also his usual salary of 20,000 francs is due."

"this is ridiculous, if we have no star we have no production. And if we have no production were _ruined!"_ Andre looked at as though he was at his wits end. Not that I blame him, what a dreadful first day.

"I know someone who could sing it," Giry's cold. Stone eyes rested on me. "If we perhaps lowered the key?" she motioned for me to come forward. I stepped lightly onto the step, feeling all eyes trained on me. "This is Rose Elodie, the soprano's cousin, she is an alto."

"Goods monsieur's, I do not sing," I shook my head.

"Why not give it a try child?" Firmin said smiling at me.

"But-" I started but one look from Madame Giry shut me up. My head snapped towards Meg and Christine, they were only 14,two years younger than myself, but have already become wonderful dancers. And I knew for a fact, that Christine was taking vocal lessons.

"From the beginning of the aria then." Reyer said.

I cleared my throat,

"_Think of me,_

_Think of my fondly-_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me once in a while,_

_Please promise me you'll try._

_When you find that once again you long-_

_To take your heart back and be free. _

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me."_

I kept my eyes trained on the floor, the cast clapped and a fiery blush burned on my face.

Firman and Andre seemed to be in a whispered debate, after a moment Andre addressed us all,

"Tonight Mademoiselle Rose will sing for us." He stated with a kind smile, the ballerinas let out a relieved sigh that all their hard work hadn't been for nothing. Inside I was a storm of different emotions; fear, anxiety, excitement. My stomach felt flipped and my heart beat wildly.

"Thank monsieur's, I wont disappoint you." I said , feeling dizzy and light headed.

**-'-,-**

**Well, hello there!:D I know this chapter is a little fluffy, but I'm finding its necessary at the beginning to have a little fluffiness , its going to get better I promise. Please leave some comments, I already have loads written and should be updating soon. Catch you on the flip side-XOXOSammi**


	2. Chapter 2

~Welcome, please enjoy~

**A/n: **_hello faithful viewers, and now the second installment of ' Roses have thorns'. the first chapter was beta read by a wonderful author; _HeartsHungBehind_. :D well, enough of my chatter, onto the good stuff. XOXO-Sammi_

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or any songs I use, nor do I own Erik….for now ;D **

I exited the stage , and was suddenly surrounded by people. Madame Giry pulled me into tight embrace.

"You sang like an angel!" she said before departing to prepare the girls for the next scene.

I made my way into the prima Donna dressing room, closing the door softly behind me. I sat at the vanity and started combing my long, dark brown hair. Humming an old tune, it was the only thing I could remember from my childhood. Most of the memories seemed to fade after my parents passed away.

"_Dancing bears,_

_Painted wings._

_Things I almost remember._

_And a song , someone sings-_

_Once upon a December._

_Someone hold me safe and warm-_

_Horses prance through a silver storm._

_Figures dancing gracefully,_

_Across my memories." _

Stood up and twirled around to the music in my head, its beautiful melody inspiring me.

"_Someone hold me safe and warm-_

_Horses prance through a silver storm._

_Figures dancing gracefully,_

_Across my memories._

_Far way, long ago-_

_Glowing dim as an ember-_

_Things my heart used to know,_

_Things it yearns to remember." _

I sat back down, sadness clouding my heart.

"_And a song someone sings…._

_Once upon a December."_

I swiped fiercely at the tears that dared to roll down my cheeks.

"Bravi,Bravi,Bravissimi." A Dark, enticing voice spoke from somewhere around me. I scanned the room and realized I was alone. I swallowed hard,

"Who are you?" I demanded.

" _I am your angel of music."_

A tentative knock came at the door, it opened and a blonde head popped in.

"Rose? You have a note." she said with a slight tremor in her voice. I raised one eyebrow at her quizzically before getting up and retrieving it from her.

_Fondest greetings Mademoiselle Elodie,_

_I see that you have sung on my stage this evening, I watched your performance and was intrigued. You do ,however, have a long way to go if you wish to excel. Perhaps I could be of service._

_-__O.G_

I frowned at the piece of paper in my hand. "I think he wants to give me lessons. Meg," I said addressing the little blonde girl. "Be a dear and fetch your mother for me."

She nodded then scurried off , I seated myself on the couch pinching the bridge of my nose, I felt a headache coming on. _So I have peaked the interest of the Opera Ghost_, I thought inwardly. _this has bad situation written all over it._

"Rose." A familiar voice regarded me from the doorway.

"Madame." I replied then I slowly gave her the note to read, her stern eyes scanned the paper.

"This is fascinating." She said softly. "Come with me." She said and disappeared down the hall. I followed her, casting worried glances behind me.

**a/n: well here we are, end of chapter2 :D Review my Darlings! And happy valentines day, I'm personally wearing all black to protest (because I shall be alone D: ) oh well! Ciao-XOXOSammi**


	3. Chapter 3

~Welcome, please enjoy~

**a/n:**_ I realized my writing has been absolutely horrid this past few updates. I'm just feeling so unmotivated recently, oh well! Enough of my chit chat.._

**Disclaimer: **_**I own not the story, Erik (or other characters), only my oc's :D**_

**Chapter 3: ****Lesson number one**

The cellars of the Opera house were cold and damp. A musty smell hung in the air as me and Giry hurried down the winding stone stair case.

"_keep you hand at the level of your eyes." _she sang under her breath.

"Where are we going?" I asked, trying not to let my voice ring with fear.

"You will soon see."

She grabbed a burning torch from the wall, its bright blaze chasing away the now impenetrable darkness. She veered left at the bottom of the stairs, going down a narrow corridor. We came across a dark wooden door, she gently pushed it open to reveal a small chapel.

"What is the meaning of this?" I said, my voice sounding flat.

"I think it would be best for you to find out on your own, I shall return within an hours time to collect you." her stern eyes gave away nothing. I looked up at her with a most confused expression across my face, so many questions clouded my mind. Without another word she left me alone in the darkness, sealing the door behind her.

I kneeled by the alter, silently praying to God to watch over me. I was never one to be fearful, but at this time I did feel lost.

"Dear child you have nothing to fear." a voice spoke to me, I recognized it instantaneously for being the one from my room.

"Who are you?" I demanded, I was known to have a short temper. Something I gained from my mother. _at least we had that in common, _I thought morbidly.

"_I am your angel of music."_ the dark, smooth voice sang.

"Well then, _angel._ what reasons have you for monopolizing my time this evening?" it was hard to harbor my growing irritation for the voice. but since I knew not who he was nor his intentions , it would be wise to go along with this charade.

"Your voice is good, but if you wish to excel you must allow me to teach you." His words but intrigued and frightened me.

"Surly you must be joking? Carlotta would throw a fit, she says I'm not allowed to sing." I stated with a hint of sadness, then added on quickly indifferently. "Not that I desire to perform anyway."

The voice growled, the low menacing sound made my heart hammer in my chest. "Carlotta has as much talent as a squawking sea bird. You , my dear, have a gift."

I scoffed, " Anyone can surmise that much about my poor, tone deaf cousin. But you sure must be deaf to believe I could sing."

"We shall see, _ma Cheri."_ the voice chuckled darkly.

I frowned, this mysterious angel was picking my last good nerve. I didn't need the constant reminder of what I so desperately wanted, but could never have. How could anyone understand an existence like that?

"Sing." the angel commanded, in a tone that left no room for discussion.

"_think of me-think of me fondly,_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me once in awhile, please promise me you'll try._

_When you find that once again you long-_

_To take your heart back and be free,_

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me." _I sang it clearly. The angel went on to help me correct my mistakes, and before I knew it I found my passion reawaken inside me. _and I wanted to sing._

**Short I know, ive been so busy with "Phantasy:D" that I haven't updated anything else D: any who go on ahead and hit that button! You know you want to!;D XOXO-Sammi**


	4. Chapter 4

~Welcome, please enjoy~

**a/n:**_ loads of reviews, you have my gratitude!:D_

**Chapter 4: who could it be?**

Having grown up in a privileged life, though I'm not proud of it, I learned many valuable lessons. One of them was that things are not _always _what they appear. Just as they are with this "angel" person. I could play the game, just long enough to find out what he wants then turn him in to the authorities. Maybe I would receive a metal of honor from the mayor or something. For rescuing the occupants from the crazed psychopath running through the cellars of the opera house and sending moderately threatening letters.

It could happen…

This kind of rich fantasy life I lead always got me into trouble as a kid. My mother would always try to rein me in, and failed horribly. After 16 years she learned that you could lead a horse to water, but you cant make it drink. Which when applied to our situation, means you could give me the tools to be a proper young lady, but that doesn't mean I'll be one.

This kind of headstrong mindset of mine is what gives me the security that I can handle the "angel" problem. I walk down the hall from Madame Giry's office with a smile. The opera is bustling with people preparing for tomorrow. At first I was afraid to sing, now I can no longer wait to get onstage. If anything I gained from working with the crazy tutor. I could feel the improvement already.

I was greeted in my room by a small envelope on my end table. Its seal was not ghastly red wax, but a small pink rose. I recognized it immediately as _my _seal. Which means..

_Someone has been rifling through my things…_

Blood rushed to my face, I thought about tearing the unopened letter to shreds. But curiosity got the better of me and I torn through the envelope.

_Bonjour Mademoiselle Rose Amora Elodie,_

_What a marvelous performance you had tonight, simply spectacular! You were a star! Although, I do have small one problem. Its _you, _and maybe it isn't so small after all. The singing was marvelous, the dancing was spot. I just didn't really like _you._ I'm sure your very confused, let alone concerned. Let me assure you that no harm will come to you, just as long as you get off the stage. Perform this opera, let it run its course. Be _do not _under any circumstance take another job as the lead. Let your darling cousin do it on your behalf. I cant exactly tell you now what it is about you , that I find a burning dislike for. It due time I think it shall reveal itself._

_Regards,_

_The listener._

I re-read the letter and let in sink in. _who the hell is this? The Listener, absurd. _the entire letter was needlessly vicious, and completely random. I was dumbfounded, I was out of suspects already, and the search hadn't even begun. Carlotta was too much of a sniveling airhead to come up with such a guise, though she could have easily swiped the stationary from under my nose. A stagehand? The place is crawling with them right now, though a good amount of them cant write or read for that matter. A ballerina? Too drunk ff their ass.

that's when I caught whiff of the scent coming off the paper. Normally I scent my letters with an assortment of scents; black orchid, sunflowers, or gardenias. This one smelled like sweat and something heady and strong, like whiskey. Who ever this "Listener" is has got a lot of nerve sending _me _this letter. Because _I_ play hard ball.

**Better, worse? Like it, hate it? Leave me a review pweese! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

A/**n: well its very nice to finally be back :D I'm sure many if you are about ready to strangle me..hehehehe xD sorry guys anyway I won't bother you with idle chit chat, I'll get right into the story**.

* * *

><p>After tearing apart that infernal note I got dressed for bed and settled into a fitful sleep, the night was spent in an entropy of tossing and turning.<p>

My Aunt Virginia sat across from me, glowering over the edge of her teacup. The entire tea-set of white porcelain gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the bay window. I'm 12 again, the age that is as far back as I can remember.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked after awhile.

"And how am I looking at you?" She replied in a patronizing tone. Her blonde locks are neatly pilled into a jeweled comb, the high collar of her white lace dress looks stiff and uncomfortable.

"Like you'd rather me leave." It was quite obvious that a good portion of her discomfort was because of my presence. This was the most time I spent with her in far longer than I care to recall.

"Don't be childish." She grimaced into the dark sloshing liquid of her tea. I could smell the peppermint aroma from my seat, the intoxicating scent lifting me from the chair.

"Rose, darling." she said with a false smile. My Aunt was the master of getting what she wanted. The corner of her sweet brown eyes crinkled with the effort of trying for a genuine smile.

My stomach started churning immediately, my face scrunching up as I waited for her to spit out what it was she wanted to tell me.

" You're going on a little trip soon dear. To see the family of my late brother, our cousins, the Guidecelli's. Surely you remember last summer,when we visited their chateau? They have a daughter that's a few years older than you. Of course, you wouldn't have seen her then. She was off training at some Paris opera house." Aunt Virginia babbled aimlessly. She was trying to discreetly tell me that she was planning to deposit me into their home, after an extended period of time I would begin to feel more and more like a burden on my family and excruciatingly out of sorts.

"Oh." I managed to squeak out.

"You're going to have such a grand time. I'll come visit you whenever I have opportunities, you know how fickle Uncle Rogers work can be, wonky schedules and the like." I nodded my head silently, staring into my tea as if the answers would suddenly appear before me. But,alas, it was to no avail, I had no way to get myself out of this situation.

And she was wrong. I didn't have a grand time with my cousins. They forced me into singing with Carlotta whenever guests came over, just so people could hear how much better she had gotten. Aunt Virginia also never came to see me, not once. She still hasn't.

I woke up early the next morning. I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. If only I could remember more of my childhood. If only I could only reach back to before my twelfth birthday, blowing out the candles on a huge cake. It was the last day that anyone ever asked how I really felt about anything. How I genuinely feel, and actually care.

No one cares really. I just had hoped that I was wrong about the world for once, maybe if I could remember something,anything. There must have been a time before this when life didn't drag on in one feeling of guilt and shame after another. I got ready in the same routine as always; washing my face in the basin, brush through my hair, select a gown,and walk out into the hall making sure to check the door handle by turning it three times. The ballerinas were also rising for an earlier breakfast before rehearsal. So as I locked the door behind me and began down the hall, I was unsurprised to run into little Meg Giry on the way.

"Good morning Mademoiselle Elodie." Meg greeted politely, she was dressed in tights and a tutu already. Being one of the best dancers in her age group, she tends to skip heading back to her room after breakfast and gets onstage early to stretch thoroughly.

"Oh, you don't have to be so formal. Im only two years your senior, Meg. " I laugh. " Did you have a good nights rest?" "Indeed I did," She smiled.

"And you, Rose?" "Fitful. I think it's due to nerves." " Mama always says you shouldn't let fear hold you back, that you must be strong and persevere to gain the most from life." Meg gets a strange little gleam in her eyes, and mouth curls into a determined smirk.

"Perhaps your mother is right Meg." I smiled as we headed downstairs.

Review please! I know I've been a horrid updater but please please please review!:D *this chapter has been revised for your enjoyment


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: hey guys thanks for tuning in, I'm so thankful for the reviews that I have gotten for this story. It means so much for me so without further adue, let Erik give you the disclaimer :D

_the red velvet curtains are drawn and Erik appears with his tuxedo clad back up dancers_

_" let me entertain you,let me make you smile." they all start dancing. " let me do a few kicks,some old and then some new tricks. I'm very versatile. And if your real good I'll make you feel good, I want your spirts to climb." Rose appears in a totally fab evening gown and joins in to sing the last few lines._

_"so let me entertain you and we'll have a real good time, yes sir. We' .a real. good timmme!"_

_Erik speaks " Sammi in no way shape or form owns poto,although she wished she owned me ;) , this song or any song used unless it is clearly indicated that the lyrics were created through her screwed up mind. "_

_P.s. I'm most like going to use songs or musicals that may not fit the time period _

**Chapter 6:** **ONCE MORE**

Three weeks later _Hannibal _was coming to a close. The morning after the last showing I woke up in tears. My 15 minutes of stardom have faded into me just being a last minute stand-in. I'd even started meeting with the angel in the morning to improve my bags were already packed to move back into my room next door, Carlotta wanted the prima donna dressing room again.

I absolutely dreaded going to angel now, to tell him that we are finished. I had no idea how he would take news like this.

I put on my favorite black breeches and a puffy white shirt. It was far to hot today to wear so many skirts. I took my hair out of its braid and tied it up high with that same white ribbon.

I tiptoed my way carefully down to the third cellar chapel, my heart hammering in anticipation.i gently pushed open the cold wooden door open into the small chapel. The stone statue sat on top of the stairs. one of of the three candles was already lit. I got down omy knees and said a quick prayer. I made the sign of the cross on my body and let out a deep sigh.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle Rose. Your looking... Interesting this morning." the angel chuckled sardonically.

I didn't care much for his mockery, that made telling him come easier and much harsher than I intended. " god thing this is the last morning you'll be seeing me then." I inspected the ends of my hair , this was the key to keeping distance between us.

"what's this?" the angel said smoothly, the mockery still in his voice. " just because your not the prima donna doesn't mean you have to stop our little meeting ma cheri."

"yes, indeed it does." I started pacing around the room like a caged animal. "in the past few weeks I've grown tired of listening to your voice. I never can truly tell what it is your thinking, what your feeling." i added in a dark tone,"and i dont like it!" I stalked towards the door and pulled hard on the handle. It wouldn't budge.

"what the devil?" I hissed under my breath. The damned thing wouldn't open. Dark laughter filled the room and the measly little candle blew out.

I was about ready to jump out my skin when the wall suddenly opened up and revealed a tall,intimidating figure. His dark hair was slicked back and contrasted nicely with his pale skin and deep emerald eyes. I barely noticed the mask at first, it blends in well with the right side of his face. His cloak was draped over his black suit.

"y-y-your not a real angel are you?" I squeaked. I knew I had thought I'd be able to handle it, if he really turned out to be the phantom. But reality seems to have a way of scaring the shit out of me lately."your the opera ghost!"

He smirked and lowered his eyes as if looking directly through me._" sing for me."_

"get a life, I am not going to sing for you! Why waste time, why dont you just kill me and get it over with." i winced.

_"come to the angel of music, I am your angel of music."_his voice was so hard to resist, my eyes kept getting heavier and heavier.

"_lucky, your a man who likes music. To me that's an important sign. Lucky, that I love to sing."_my voice started breaking from fright. _" unsure. Brave but unsure."_

Without another thought I took his extended hand and let him lead me down to the fifth cellar.

**Reviews are greatly loved my dears3-sammi**

**p.s. as we speak I'm putting up a video on YouTube of me singing learn to be lonely by Minnie Driver I will post the link momentarily. There ya go!**

** watch?v=wfNfLNRZIDE**


	7. Chapter 7

A/n: ok so I've now realized that the writing for the first six chapters, sucks. Its ok,you can admit it :) so since it took me so very,very long to update; im going to try very,very hard to make it as long and as enjoyable as possible from now on. I have a rough idea of where I want this story to go. But just because I have a plot doesn't mean you cannot make suggestions on something you would like to see :) if you want to spam me for updates I have a 'kik' and a twitter, if you want either pm me,or leave it in a review. thank you for tuning in, please drop a review on the way out!  
>Disclaimer: last one im doing, I don't own the things that belong to other people:D<br>Chapter 7: Bittersweet

I awoke with a start. I was drenched in sweat, my hair plastered to my face, my throat bone dry. The nightmare was enough to leave me gasping for air. I knew that cancelling these lessons was weighing heavily on my mind, and perhaps I underestimated the power of my brain, but the dream was so vivid and three dimensional. I got up quickly,leaving the bad dream behind in my bed as I got dressed. I carefully chose pink ruffled dress, it buttoned all the way up to my neck and the hem was just to my knees. It looked like a dress that belonged on a china doll, perhaps that was why my mother liked it so much.

She wasn't my real mother of course, but she was the only one I could remember. My birthmother died just before my fifth birthday. I was away at my grandparents while they went on a business trip to London. At the time we lived in the heart of Paris in townhouse that wasn't far from the Opera Populaire. They arrived home earlier than intended and were to exhausted from their journey to pick me up that night.  
>The police told us one of them must have knocked the oil lamp over in their sleep. My parents were responsible people, but sometimes even the most thoughtful people can't stand against fatigue.<br>The woman who raised me, was a single woman in her late thirties that was good friends with my mother. And though she was a good and honest woman, the reasons for her spinsterhood were apparent in her controlling nature.

I flew down the smooth stone steps, I had written a note and planned to leave it in the chapel. If the angel was really the phantom, as I most almost he was, then he would most likely not take well to being told off verbally by a woman. Though if it came down to it, that was presisely what i would do. At first it felt like i was playing detective, trying to figure out the true story behind the phantom game quickly took a turn for the worse when i noticed he was becoming possessive. My prima status being revoked was more a cover-up than anything else. I realized how stupid i had been for trusting a strange voice that spoke to me through walls. He had to be a extremely sick man to think such actions were acceptable. And usually people of that nature are capable of things like murder or rape.  
>I held back a cry, my foolishness could have cost me my virtue. Or more importantly, my life! I was just about to open the chapel door when i heard an ethereal sound coming from the inside. I held my ear to the door, in the dark corner of the walls I saw a spider paralyze and capture an suspecting moth. I silently gagged.<p>

" Very good Christine." the angels voice spoke.  
>"Thank you master." She replied, the words sounded monotone, as if she were very , I will not stand back and let that horrid man molest the mind of an innocent girl! I burst in the room, startling Christine. She blinked rapidly a few times before addressing me.<p>

" Mademoiselle Elodie?" she said softly, confusion was evident in her features " What are you doing here?"

" Go upstairs with the other ballerinas. Stay with meg, do not leave her side until I come and get you." I commanded, my tone left no room for argument. She quickly left, bounding up the stairs like hellhounds were at her heels.

" Im cancelling our lessons, our time together is over." my voice cracked in fear, the nightmare still fresh in my mind." Also, stay away from Christine! She is a child, and you..your a strange person who talks from behind walls." The last comment got to him, he began to laugh. The dark,rich sound filled the room, the alter began to shake violently. All my resolve left my body, I let out a shriek of pure terror and dashed up the stairs. The torches as I pasted them went out in a puff of smoke. I was almost at the hallway door when a hand clasped my ankle.

" NO!" I screamed, and kicked the pursuer in the face. Something clattered down a few steps, and yet I was not released. I punched the man right in his hard chest. He coughed, and i could smell his sweet and spicy scent. Once fear I made it to the hallway and sprinted towards Girys office.  
><strong>XXXXXX<strong>

Madame Giry took the time to calm me down before she made me explain what had happened. I sipped the peppermint tea as she mulled over why I just said.

" I think we should call the police." I stated, feeling safe in her small cozy office.

" The police wouldn't know how to deal with him, he's a genius. A composer, a magician,and a architect. The opera house is his domain." she replied sadly. Her gray eyes looked tired, her black hair was beginning to turn gray.

" Then I will just have to protect Christine myself!" I said braver than I felt.

" You would do that?" Giry said with a smirk." For a girl you barely know?"

"Of course, wouldn't you?" I laughed dryly.

" Indeed, indeed I would." she smiled.  
>We sat silently there for a moment or two, sipping tea as if everything was solved and things would be alright.<br>Of course, things didn't last that way for long.

**RandR :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n: I'm seriously thinking of revising this entire thing, or scrapping it completely. Sorry it took so long to update, I have been extremely busy with school starting and being sick. So, please leave me a comment and tell me if you liked this update, or if you think I should revise or scrape this story. Thank you all so much! **

**Anyways, onto the part you came for..**

**Chapter 8: At First Glance **

The next few weeks were silent, and completely ghost-free. I was convinced he had deserted the opera house, and I began to relax. Christine almost never left my side; she had admitted that she felt safe around me. In a strange way I've grown accustomed to her hanging around, she wasn't very loud or talkative, but still a joy nonetheless. Christine had an easy blush and a shy, demure, kind of personality.

I sat on the pink divan in the prima donna dressing room, twirling a strand of my light brown hair around my finger. I watched Carlotta paint her white face with black liquid makeup, she then preceded to line her full lips in red and shade them in.

" Nervous?" I said, my tone was bored. Christine was the only source of entertainment I had these days, and now she was busy at dance warm-ups.

" The butterflies are in my stomach." Her heavy accented voice replied, she pouted her lips.

" Hmmm." I murmured in agreement.

"Jealous." she smirked into the vanity mirror, pushing a few strands of her strawberry locks into her wig cap.

"No." My tone was clipped.

"Sure sounds like it."

" Your not exactly and expert on _sound_ now are you?" I mused sarcastically.

Carlotta didn't bother answering, she simply slid on her dark wig and left without another word. I let out a great sigh and got up, gathering my deep indigo skirts into my hands and heading out to take my seat in the audience.

/*/*/

The opera performed _The Barber of Seville_beautifully. And despite Carlotta using _Nightingale _for the vocal lesson scene, a tune ill-suited for her particular voice type, I couldn't help but smile. I applauded along with the audience, the ballet was spot on and I could see both Meg and Christine glow with pride when they took their bows.

When everyone had cleared out into the foyer of the theatre, I was among the masses that stayed to mingle with one another. The orchestra played soft melodies and champagne was poured, the aristocracy of France was at an all time high this night.I sat at one of the many small tables placed around the walls of the massive foyer. The carved sculptures of marble stared down on the dancing patrons with seemingly emotionless eyes. The candle light from the chandelier sparkled off the paper thin glass of the long stem wine glasses. My own was filled with a small increment of deep red wine, it tasted both sweet and bitter on my tongue, and left me feeling a light buzz.  
>"Rose!" a young voice shouted excitedly.<p>

"Yes, Meg?" I queried, gently placing my glass onto the table.

"Did you see me? Did you see me dance?" Meg grasped my hand, her big blue eyes were gleaming, and the pallor of her skin was off-set by the lilac hue of her gown.

"Indeed I did, you held excellent form my dear. One small thing though-"I added in a smooth, cool tone not wanting to upset her after such a successful night. Meg shook her head, her composure unwavering. "Try putting a little more life into your role. Trying making a character for yourself- it will really help bring your dancing and acting together." I smiled as Meg contemplated my words.

"Well, thank you! I'll have to try it next time." She laughed. My gaze flickered over to the doorway as a lovely vision in cream satin gown made her way into the room, large brown eyes scanning the room for me.

"You know, I was wondering, if you're not _busy _maybe you could coach me-"Meg twiddled her thumbs and stared at the ground.  
>"One moment, if you wouldn't mind." I said cutting her off before I got up and made my way over to Christine.<p>

"Fabulous performance tonight _mon cher." _

"_Oh," _Christine's pretty little face grimaced. "I disagree, I was so put-off from nervousness, and I must have missed at least two steps." Tears welled up in her massive doe eyes.

"Nonsense, you were perfect. A true ethereal sight to behold." I caressed her face affectionately. "So do not fret pretty one." I smiled

She laughed, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. She linked her arm through mine and we walked back to the table, chatting idly about our ideas for the next show.

"Hmm? That's strange." I looked around. "Where has Meg run off too?" Christine shrugged as I tried to see through the dancers.

"Perhaps she went to find her mother." Christine offered, sitting down and filled her glass with water.

"Yes." I agreed quietly, and reached my shawl and threw it over my shoulders. "Stay here until I come back, I'm going for some fresh air."

"Rose, don't go." Christine pleaded. "I still don't feel safe on my own." She whispered.

"You'll be fine." I smiled. "Just stay right here, I won't be long."

I walked briskly past the few people exiting earlier from the festivities; I was desperate for some fresh air and a chance to cool down.

An older gentleman held the door open for me, and I quickly gave him a nod of appreciation before clutching my shawl closer. The frigid night air hit me in waves of ice, chilling me almost immediately to the bone. I sat on a secluded, snow-covered bench, my breathe coming out in short puffs of fog.

"_Out alone, rossignol?" _The wind carried the deep voice to my ears, swirling around me like a predator. My breathe caught in my chest, my head whipped from side to side yet, as far as I could see, I was completely alone. I placed my hand on the bench seat to steady myself, and felt the long smooth stem of a flower. A white peony resting on top of note. I sniffed the fragrant flower apprehensively, and picked up the note. It was sealed with a pink rose, _my_ seal. My mouth pressed into hard line, as I gently broke the seal and began to read.


End file.
